SUMMER MATINEE

A scene in a coffeeshop reminded me of a movie long ago.
In the movie, a man and a woman studying at university are living together, purely as a matter of convenience, to split the rent and share their meager resources. Eventually (and you knew this was going to happen), they shyly fall in love with each other, without knowing how to broach the subject.
It was a romantic comedy, and ended with the man rushing off to tell the women who is at the train station heading home to please come back, he finally understands, surely they were meant for each other?
Or something like that. It ends happily.

They kiss in the rain, and the music swells.


In the coffee shop a young couple was reading, and there was a plate with cake between them. As their eyes travelled down their respective pages, they would reach out with their forks and take a bit of cake. Delicious chocolate cake. Which after ten minutes of slow thoughtful forking was almost all gone. Eventually their two forks did not encounter any cake but connected.
They looked up at each other. Smiled.
And went back to their books.

That, perfectly, is what life is all about.
Separate books, but shared cake.


If two people have finally read several of the same books at some point in their lives, that is a wonderful thing to have in common, a splendid result of many years together.
But cake really has to be shared now.
Cake is of the moment.

It also helps if both of them have a certain amount of manual dexterity and fork skill, as chocolate icing can leave very noticeable stains if you drop a piece in your lap.
Consequently, a table in between is also useful.
Cake. Books. Café in North Beach.


North-Beach and Chinatown are the ideal walking neighborhoods in San Francisco.
Not necessarily for the shops, but for the interesting things to see, the vibrant bustling atmosphere, and the many places where coffee or tea and snackipoos can be had.

One may also ascend Telegraph Hill, Russian Hill, and Nob Hill, and find quiet alleyways, splendid views, tree and shrub lined passages, and pleasant places to rest, perhaps while reading.

On a pleasant day that is not too warm, spending the afternoon doing so would be perfect.
Relaxed, no rush, enjoying the moment.

Then to head home again before the chilling winds of early evening, and perhaps finish the day with a hot cup of tea.


The idea of reading for hours, but not alone, is incredibly delightful.
How splendid to find someone else with whom you can do so!
And how lovely if another person likes doing that.

Quiet, together. Quality time.

It's day-dreamy.


I cannot help but finish with a mention of the tobacco currently most often in my pipe.
It is a medium English blend, faintly toasty, with a well-balanced addition of an old-fashioned fragrance, reminiscent of grand hotels at European spas, train station waiting rooms, teashops in country villages, comfortable hearths, and well-bred elderly aunts with sparkling eyes and a sense of humour. A time and place of doilies, lace, antimacassars; an atmosphere of ancient spice, delicate resin, a faint whisp of incense.
Comfortable armchairs, flickering lights, and long quiet evenings.

All of these, but not all at once. It's a mental thing.
No, shan't mention the brand or blend.
It has to be smelled.



==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================